


Knights in Rusting Armor

by sailormarsbars



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Human AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailormarsbars/pseuds/sailormarsbars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was a man on a mission, and nothing, not even his beloved ducks, were going to get in his way. Magnus Densen was eight years old, and he had a thief to catch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knights in Rusting Armor

**Author's Note:**

> The summary is going to be changing with every chapter, but the title will remain the same. 
> 
> This whole story, if I decide to continue with it, will be influenced by a lot of personal headcanons. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you like it!
> 
> ~Viikiings

Magnus had been eight years old when he had declared that the swing with the rust spot that looked like a car that sat right in the middle of the park was his favorite. The swing was in just the right spot so that he could see the duck pond and all of the little ducks that swam around in it, and it had just the right amount of creak and groan that a swing should have. In his mind, it was the perfect swing, and it was the only swing that he could ever see himself swinging on. It was his own spot, his place. And in a way, his comfort.

Every Saturday afternoon his parents would walk him to the park after stopping by the little market just off to the right of their house. At the market they would get a snack and a small loaf of bread to throw to the ducks. Then they would walk to the park, which was just down the road from their house. After making their way to the duck pond, and taking some time to throw all of the bread to the ducks, he would make his way to swing.

It was his family's routine, and never had it been broken. Not by a storm, not by there being no bread left in the little market just off to the right of his house, and not by there being no ducks in the duck pond. The routine had been set in stone since the very first day, and it was near impossible to break.

At least, it was near impossible to break to a six year old boy, that is.

Never once in his six years of life had Magnus heard the phrase 'All good things must come to an end'. Whether it was from his parent's optimism, or the fact that he just hadn't had the chance to hear it yet, there was no telling.

Maybe if he had heard the phrase before that one fateful day, the day that the set in stone routine was broken, then maybe he would have taken the whole ordeal a bit better. And maybe he wouldn't have been punched in the face by a Swedish boy who was way too tall for his age.

Of course, the day had started like any other. His parents had woken him up, to the dot, at twelve thirty in the afternoon, right when the sun rose over the large oak tree in their backyard, which gave a nice glow to the little patch of land that sat under and around it. They had quickly gotten him dressed, and they had soon set out for the market just off to the right of their house.

Everything was going in order, everything was going perfectly, just like it always did.

The only difference was the feeling of impending doom that loomed over the park when they finally arrived.

When you first stepped into the park, there were three trails. The one that went off to the left led you to the playground. The one that went forward led you to the duck pond and the picnic area, where adults would sit while their children played by the duck pond or at the playground, which you had a clear view of. The trail that went off to the right led you to the secret place, where adults never let their children go. There were whispers among the children in the park that the trail that went off to the right was filled with ghosts, trolls, and witches.

Anyone who dare entered the trail that went off to the right was doomed to be made into cake and gobbled up by the monsters that lived there.

Magnus had always told himself that one day, when he was older, and when he finally had a full suit of armor and was made into a knight by a beautiful princess, he would venture into the trail and defeat all of the dastardly demons that lurked there.

The routine that he and his parents always followed was to follow the trail that went forward to get to the duck pond, then after throwing bread to the ducks with the other children who they had shared the bread with, they would cut through the grass to get to the playground.

But when they first stepped foot into the park, all Magnus could feel was dread. Something was terribly, terribly wrong, and he had to know exactly what it was. He looked to his parents for answers, because they were the smartest people that he knew, other than his teacher Mrs. Lindvig. But all they did was smile at him, like they always did, and start towards the duck pond. All Magnus could do was follow their lead. He would have to find out later, but the sense of dread continued to grow and grow until it was eating away at him. Not even the loud and obnoxious quacking of the ducks when they were thrown bread could ease him.

"Are you alright, dear?" His mother asked, noticing that he was just lazily throwing the bread into the water, nowhere near the ducks who kept near the other children who were throwing bread, barely even taking notice of Magnus.

"Yep." Magnus replied, heaving a heavy sigh. He tore off another piece of bread and dropped it into the water, a duck tinier than the rest hurriedly swimming towards it, quacking as if that was the last piece of soggy bread it would ever see.

"You sure?" Nicoline questioned, ruffling his already messy hair. "You seem sick, and you're dreadfully pale."

"He's always pale, dearest."

"Today even more so." Nicoline stuck out her bottom lip, looking Magnus up and down with narrowed eyes. "Is he getting enough sun?"

"He gets too much, seeing as though he spends all of his time outside running around."

But it was then, in that very moment, that Magnus realized just exactly what was wrong. It was then, in that moment, did Magnus see what had caused the impending sense of doom.

The whole world came to a sudden halt, and all Magnus could see was his swing.

Being sat on, by someone who was not him.

The world suddenly came back into motion, and Magnus saw red.

He rolled up his sleeves, and began to stomp over to the playground. In the background, he could hear his mothers calling for him, and he could hear the ducks quacking, but it didn't matter. He was a man on a mission, and nothing, not even his beloved ducks, were going to get in his way.

Of course, Magnus had no set plan for how he was to deal with this crook. After being raised in a household where violence was seen as a last resort, or a not-at-all resort, the only option he had was to talk it through with the boy, and show him how he was a thief. In his head, it was full-proof. The outcome of it all, when he was finally done speaking with the boy, was that the boy would see how he had wronged Magnus, and he would agree that he did need to clean up his act. Then, obviously, he would give the swing back to Magnus, and that would be the end of it. To a six year old, it made perfect sense. Magnus didn't, almost couldn't, anticipate that instead of the boy coming to terms with his thieving, the boy would practically break his nose.

Silence went throughout the playground when he finally arrived. Every child and adult seemed to stare as Magnus walked towards the boy, ready to reclaim his swing.

It was then that he noticed that the boy was staring at him, as if he had been anticipating Magnus's arrival.

The stare was deadly, and frozen as the winter night.

Magnus felt a shiver run down his spine.

He stopped in front of the boy, who had ceased his swinging and was now sitting, his eyes narrowed as he waited for Magnus to make his first move.

"You're sitting in my swing." Magnus said, trying to hide the shake in his voice. The boy was scary. Even more so than his uncle Sebastian when his favorite sports team lost a game.

"Am I?" The boy asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeah, you are." Magnus crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not nice to steal someone's swing, ya know."

The boy did nothing, said nothing.

"You're not going to give it back?" The 'plan' was falling apart by the second. This thief was a very tough nut to crack.

"No. S'mine now."

"No it's not!" Magnus shouted, being fed up with how incredibly stubborn this crook was.

"Ya."

Magnus let out a growl of frustration. "Give it back before I get my moms! Nicoline'll give you a talk about how you're being mean!"

"Still my swing."

Then Magnus used a word he never thought he would be able to use.

"Stop being so...so stupid!"

The boy stood up, and readjusted his glasses. "What didya just say?"

Magnus then realized that he was nowhere near as tall as this boy was. He had to at least be three years older.

"I didn't say anything."

"You called me stupid."

"Did I?"

"Ya."

"I don't remember."

The boy blinked once, then sent his fist to collide with Magnus's face.

Somewhere in the distance, Magnus heard screaming. It sounded a lot like Nicoline when she saw a bug in the house. He also heard someone shouting, but he didn't recognize their voice. All he could hear was Nicoline screaming. She was terribly loud all the time, so it was no surprise to him.

Then the world came back to his vision, and he was granted to see Nicoline screaming at some man who looked as if he was about to pee himself. He also saw the boy, who was standing with a woman who kept her arms wrapped around his shoulders. It was then he realized that the woman was glaring at him, her eyes lifeless and terrifying behind her horn-rimmed glasses.

"Are you okay?" His mother asked, using her skirt to wipe away the blood that was streaming from his nose, making it slightly hard to breathe.

His voice was muffled by the fabric of the skirt, but his mother got the message.

He was okay.

Even though there was a shooting pain going through his head, he could handle it. He had gone through worse pain when he had fallen out of a tree the previous year.

"YOUR DEMON OF A CHILD HURT MY SON! IF HIS NOSE IS BROKEN, I'LL BE SURE TO SEND THE FUCKING HOSPITAL BILL RIGHT TO YOUR DOOR!"

"I-I'm sure that it was all a misunderstanding...I'm so sorry about your boy, m-my son doesn't usually act like this..."

"I-"

"Nicoline." His mother said, her voice stern.

Nicoline sighed. "Yes, I know."

"I-I'll be sure that any hospital bills from this are paid for..." The man said, the shaking in his voice subsiding.

"Yes." Nicoline said, nodding. "Yes, thank you." Yet there was no gratitude in her voice.

Then the man turned to the woman, who stood up, and took the boy by the hand. They walked off, the woman casting one more glare off in Magnus's direction.

The boy also looked back, but instead of looking angry, he almost looked regretful.

Magnus would be sure to apologize to him the next time he saw him.

He had been terribly out of line, calling him stupid.

 


End file.
